9:35 am
At one apartment complex on the west side of the Pentagram, one could have sworn that it had been subjected to a terrorist attack or a series of arsons. Scorch marks marred its rough exterior, and many who lived in the area had heard explosions and strange, irritating scents wafting from the area on more than one occasion. Random acts of vandalism were not entirely uncommon, but the marks had not been due to hooliganism by a rebellious sinner. Although it was within three miles of the infamous Cherri Bomb's territory, it had not been visited by her.
The damage to the apartment was caused by one of its own tenants. That tenant was on the cusp of enjoying his habitation for the last time.
"Get the fuck out, you goddamn quack!"
A lean form was chucked out of the front entrance by an imposing imp in a sweatshirt and jeans who ran the mediocre establishment. There had simply been too much noise and collateral damage that he could not afford to repair if it continued unhindered. All of the collateral damage that the apartment received had been caused by the person he was in the process of evicting.
The sinner that was being forcefully removed from the property was dressed in a dark, bluish-charcoal lab coat with black gloves and thick, corrosion resistant boots. He was a humanoid angler fish with a prominent, black rod protruding from the top of his skull. The last quarter of the protrusion had two light blue bands of color and a yellow lure which glowed in a dim manner in the crimson, morning haze.
His gray face was framed by two, fin-like ears and a messy coif of hair that looked more like a bundle of navy and gray colored seaweed with splotches of blue throughout the hair. The man's cheeks were peppered with small clusters of light blue freckles. A pair of large, protective yellow goggles sat over his orange eyes, which were surrounded by scleras of blue.
Picking himself off of the sidewalk, the studious and frazzled sinner grabbed a small, dark bowler hat with yellow spots that ringed its outside. The headwear had fallen off upon his rough expulsion from the premises. His face was contorted with mild rage that the landlord had dared to lay hands on him, but this gave way to a sense of desperation to keep his place at the apartment. Turning to his former landlord, he tried to explain himself. "Please Mr. Rend, it was an unexplained reaction when I added-"
"I don't give a rat's ass how it happened." The imp growled with hatred in his eyes. "I gave you a chance to knock it off with your laboratory antics, and you continued to turn this place into a fucking mess you four eyed dipshit!"
"Oh come now," The scientist sinner replied bitterly, "aren't the insults a little gratuitous? I even offered to pay for the clean up."
"I don't want your goddamn money anymore! You've scared away most of my other tenants, and I can no longer deal with you inevitably blowing the place sky high because of your dumbass ideas!"
"Hey!" The lure atop the sinner glowed fiercely as he bristled at the insult towards his intelligence. "We could make a breakthrough to take the fight back to those angels! All I need is-"
"Fuck off!" Mr. Rend screamed impatiently. "I don't want to see your miserable face again, Baxter! If you even come within one hundred feet of my goddamn apartment, I will gut you open from mouth to anus and fry your flesh over a skillet!" The door slammed with harsh finality, and Baxter was left out in the streets with only the clothes on his back.
Even if the threat of being cooked was not thrown his way, Baxter knew to not push his luck. With a sigh, he pulled out his Hellphone from one of his pockets to call for a cab. The journey to find a new residence was under way.
Baxter was the proud owner of three private chemistry labs, where he hoped to create ingenious substances that would benefit Hell (and satiate his own obsessive curiosity). Unfortunately, they made for very uncomfortable places to sleep in. They were relatively small buildings that were packed with dangerous substances. The labs also had little room for things like a bed or a full bathroom.
He needed a comfortable place to get some sleep, for a healthy sleep schedule meant a clear and vigorous mind. The greatest challenge that Baxter had to overcome as a resident of Pentagram City was to find a home that could be kept.
While waiting for his cab to arrive, he began to search for vacancies around Pentagram City. Most of the places he found had already thrown him out and banned him for his scientific undertakings. The list of housings that would not outright reject him was growing shorter every month. One name caught Baxter's eye as he reached the bottom of one digital search page.
"The Hazbin Hotel?" He vaguely remembered hearing of a venture by the daughter of Lucifer to "redeem" sinners in a hotel. It was an attempt to prove that at least one soul could ascend to Heaven.
Initially, Baxter cared little for the idea when he heard the predictable scorn and mockery from sinners that he saw in passing. All the same, he supposed that it was vaguely intriguing to think that an entire hotel had repurposed for one, optimistic proposition. Besides, he was hardly one to dislike a hotel that had free amenities.
"Perhaps I could use it as a side project." he whispered to himself, a certain gleam in his tangerine eyes. "A chance to closely observe self-improving sinners would be quite the unique psychological opportunity." Baxter adored chemistry, but he liked the scientific method in general. Such an opportunity did not come once in a hundred years.
"Let's just see what this... redemption venture is all about..." Baxter murmured uncertainty.
10:07 am
"So, what's been up with you?"
Husker was enjoying a drink with Jersey. Rather, he was enjoying himself as much as a cynical, constantly drinking, gambling gryphon demon could.
The hotel's resident handyman was idly staring at a little shot of whiskey, his go-to drink. He preferred moderation with his alcohol consumption, and he was somewhat appreciative that Husk did not judge him for it.
"Got my first proper job outside of the hotel. Served one of Alastor's friends."
Husk's head jerked up from the paw that was supporting its slumped position. "Which fuckin' friend? Al ain't exactly a typical, goddamn socialite."
"Rosie. You ever heard of her?"
Husk shivered slightly. "Yeah. Sure wish I didn't. That broad's the kind a woman who'd fatten you up and then serve you up for breakfast the next day."
"Because she's a cannibal?"
Husk nodded gravely. He took a generous gulp of his own mixture. He had treated himself to a Screwdriver on this early afternoon.
"I suppose it's a good thing she didn't try anything with me. She even gave me a tip for my work on her rusty plumbing."
"Just keep your wits about ya kid." Husk warned. "Can't trust any motherfucker down here."
"Trust me, I know that all too well."
"Ooh! Watcha boys talking about!" Niffty dashed onto a stool next to Jersey with an eager smile on her face.
"Just how things are going with my job. I helped a friend of Alastor named Rosie with some plumbing issues at her emporium down at Cannibal Colony."
"I know her! It's been a long time since Alastor introduced me to her that one time back in '62. I'd been serving Alastor for almost three years by then, and we had a lovely picnic down at one of the parks in Pentagram City. I had a nice little sandwich to myself while Alastor and Rosie were dining on the flesh of one of the sinners who tried to steal from Ms. Rosie's emporium!"
"How... charming." Jersey remarked with a disgusted cringe. "I think I'm done." He passed the glass shot to Husk, who went about cleaning the small glass wear.
"Go fuckin' figure." Husk was all too familiar with the monstrous habits of his de facto boss. As a result, he did not showcase the same level of abhorrence as Jersey did.
"So... how'd you two come to meet Alastor?" Jersey asked.
Husker's claws tightened over his drink and a dark growl ascended from his throat. He had to reel in his strength lest he shatter the glass and let it go to waste.
"I don't wanna dark about it." He muttered darkly. "Let's just say I gambled one time too many, and I gotta pay a hefty fuckin' debt to that asshole."
Niffty was not nearly so clipped in her explanation.
"Well, I was just wondering about, not really able to hold down a home." Niffty gave a sober chuckle. "I guess my 'cleanliness is close to godliness' routine put a lot of people off. But Mr. Alastor didn't mind! In exchange for being his personal maid, I got a roof over my head! It was a pretty good deal for me!"
Husk interjected, not wanting Niffty's rosy experience to make Jersey reconsider his cautious approach towards the Radio Demon. "Want my advice? Never ever give him a chance to have you indebted to him. It will be the worst fuckin' decision in your life."
"I think you mean, afterlife." Niffty gently corrected.
"Whatever." Husk downed the rest of his Screwdriver, and felt the need to mix something stronger. 'I got the ingredients for a Zombie, right?' He thought in disgruntlement.
'Even one my coworkers is telling me to be careful.' Jersey thought, committing to memory Husk's mildly vitriolic reaction to an inquiry about his association with the Radio Demon.
The somewhat tense atmosphere was disrupted by a knock at the door. Before anyone could react, Niffty announced her decision to answer.
"I'll get it!"
In a blur of a reddish coif of hair and magenta poodle skirt, Niffty jumped at the front entrance to open the door. She revealed a most unusual visitor.
"Ah... umm," the fish-like sinner stuttered, not expecting the diminutive greeter before him, "are there vacancies at this hotel?"
Niffty let out a dramatic gasp of excitement at the newcomer's presence. "Oh this is wonderful! Another man is going to be a guest!" She hopped up and down in elation, startling the sinner just feet away from her.
"Nifft!" Husk called her way. "Boundaries..."
Niffty immediately realized what a scene she was making. "Oops! He he... come in."
The sinner, still looking unsure, squeezed his way through the door, making sure not to get too close to the fixated maid before him. He speed walked his way towards the counter, stopping a slight distance from where Jersey was sitting.
Husk was quite surprised that there was the possibility of an actual guest who was taking up residence of their own free will. "You here to take up a room?" Husk gave a stray sip of his newly mixed Zombie, his harsh yellow eyes meeting the anxious fish-man's own.
"T-that's right." The sinner replied. Whether he was anxious about the apparent glare in Husk's eyes, or was aware of the dichotomy of a cat demon interacting with a fish demon could not be discerned.
"Huh. No shit?"
The coat-wearing demon was briefly perturbed by the vulgarity, but he gave a controlled nod of affirmation, the glowing lure on his head swaying with the movement of his head.
"Well, here's a couple of things for you to sign and uh... stuff." Husk had not bothered to practice the 'inspiring' words of greeting that Charlie expected of him, but he could sloppily bring up agreement forms and a dusty pen.
It took a brief number of minutes for the fishy sinner to produce an I.D and sign the agreement forms, but it was a thankfully smooth process. The newest patron kept his eyes focused on the paperwork, aware of the states coming from all three of the hotel's staff. He breathed a sigh of relief when the papers were slid across the desk back to Husk.
His eyes slithered over the documents, one by one. "Baxter, huh?"
"Y-yes. Scientist extraordinaire at your service." Baxter greeted with a hasty lift of his bowler hat in courtesy.
Husk gave an unimpressed huff, tossing a room key towards Baxter. The fishy sinner barely caught the small trinket in a fumbling manner. "Husk. You're on the floor right above us, fourth room."
"How... hospitable of you." Baxter said, caught between scorn of the cat-demon's gruffness and wanting not to spark a confrontation.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Jersey extended a hand towards Baxter with a relaxed grin, trying to make the guest feel comfortable. "Name's Jersey, the hotel's plumber, electrician, and part-time carpenter."
Baxter leaned away from the hand as if it was a venomous snake approaching him. "I don't shake hands." Upon seeing Jersey's smile fall, Baxter feared that he had offended him. "Uh... with all due respect."
Jersey retracted the hand with a critical look in his eyes. 'I suppose this guy is germaphobic.' He thought carefully. 'Odd quirk for a scientist of all people.'
"Hi! I'm Niffty! I keep the hotel clean!" Niffty's peppy introduction was equally effective at startling Baxter and his distance conscious sensibilities. From Jersey's point of view, seeing someone else becoming the object of her attention was a little funny. "I can't wait to know about you more!"
"Ah... well..." Baxter began with a nervous smile, trying to deftly maneuver his way to not get cornered between Niffty and the front desk-turned bar. "Why don't I get settled in first before we... interact as such."
As he quickly made his way upstairs, two and a half pairs of eyes followed the ascending self-proclaimed scientist. Jersey spoke what was on everyone's minds.
"Pretty jumpy fellow, huh?"
"Looked like the most shit scared son of a bitch I've seen in years." Husk commented. "And that poor fucker hasn't even met Al yet..."
"Wonder what's got him all shaken up? He didn't want to shake hands, especially with your hand Mr. Jersey. Of course, I wouldn't mind shaking those strong, rugged hands of yours." She trailed off dreamily.
Jersey merely sighed through his nose. At this point, gentle rebukes of her flirtatiousness was becoming a waste of breath. At the very least she had begun to respect his personal boundaries as of late. "I guess he's germaphobic. He's probably obsessive about being clean. Although... being a scientist is all about getting dirty sometimes."
"Ooh! I bet he'll be happy with me keeping the hotel spick and span! Why, I eradicated a whole nest of rats in the basement last week!" Niffty bragged with glee.
"Sounds like you had a most exhilarating battle with those rodents." Jersey regarded sportingly.
"Oh it was a massacre! Their filthy squeaks died on their whiskered little lips!" Niffty's toothy smile took on an almost manic quality.
"So..." Husk interjected slowly. "Who's gonna tell the Princess about this guy?"
The door to Charlie's office was suddenly thrown open. Vaggie, still at the Princess' side, leapt to her feet and lifted her spear threateningly. Her aggression became mixed with bemusement when she saw that it was Niffty who had invited herself in.
"Niffty?" Charlie asked, having been slightly startled by the intrusion. She had been focusing on printing a future schedule for a substantial population of sinners that wanted to undergo group activities.
"Sorry!" The little cyclops apologized. "I should've knocked. That was rude."
"What's going on?" Vaggie asked, standing her spear on its dull end.
"We finally have another guest!" Niffty announced cheerfully.
The reaction from Charlie was immediate. "Oh my gosh, that's wonderful!" She leapt up to her feet and swept Vaggie up in a crushing hug.
The Salvadoran sinner was just as surprised, though she had a hard time expressing this with her girlfriend's exuberant act of celebration. She just smiled as a kiss was placed on her cheek.
Charlie soon placed Vaggie down. Her next target was Niffty, who squeaked a bit in surprise at the embrace. Once the brief hug-fest was over, she addressed the elephant in the room. "Where is the new guest?! We have to greet him!"
"Oh, he's up in his room." Niffty answered. "Got the papers signed and everything."
"Which room?"
"First floor, room number four I think."
"Let's go!" Charlie dashed eagerly out of her office, leaving behind Vaggie, who was recovering from the demonic bear hug she had received just seconds ago.
"Hey, wait for me!" The spear maiden called out.
"Yes... These quarters are adequate." Baxter muttered as he glanced about the comfy and clean surroundings. The aesthetic of the hotel on the outside was admittedly gaudy for his tastes, but he was hardly one to be a chooser when he was effectively without a bed to go to at the end of the day.
He had not brought any baggage with him for one, simple reason: he had no need to. Aside from a toothbrush, his Hellphone, wallet, and the clothes on his back, he had nothing important or of sentimental value to bring to the hotel. It was the same situation that he had done to countless apartments, boarding houses, and dirty tenements that he had slept in before. The only difference was that for the vast majority of his time in hell, cellular phones had not been conceived in the mortal world, much less Hell. All of his personal items could be taken with him in the comfort of his pockets.
The assessment of the room was stopped when Baxter heard a frantic series of knocks at his door. Initially wary at the hasty nature of the rapping, he quickly steadied himself and answered the door. He was not prepared for the joyous presence of the Princess of Hell herself.
"Hi! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You are going to love it here!" Charlie still had a massive reservoir of positive energy from the addition of a new guest. Her current behavior was even more hyper than Niffty, which somewhat amazed and alarmed Baxter.
This anxiety was fully unleashed when she dared to grasp his hand to shake it.
"I'm Charlie! What's your name?" When Charlie took the moment to observe her new guest's reaction, her beaming smile quickly turned to a frown of concern.
The grayish flesh on Baxter's face paled. He let out a shriek of fright as he wrenched his gloved hand out of her grasp. "Don't touch me!" He made a hasty retreat to the bathroom, and Charlie was left in a state of shock as the sound of an open tap trickled into her ears.
"Oh gosh..." Charlie murmered, her heart falling into her stomach. This was not a good first introduction.
"Charlie!" Vaggie stopped in the hallway just feet behind her. She took the time to catch some of her breath before joining Charlie at the doorway. "No need to leave me behind, you know. Not like the guest is going to disappear into nothing if you don't see him immediately."
"Sorry." Charlie apologized, pressing her palms together. "I just can't believe that we got a new guest after all of these weeks! It's a shame I've left a bad impression on him..."
Vaggie looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I tried shaking his hand, and he just... panicked. He ran off as if he was bitten by something. I hope I didn't hurt him..." Charlie looked down at her feet in shame.
"Charlie..." Vaggie was about to place a comforting hand on her when they heard the stomping of boots from behind them. Baxter was marching himself out of the bathroom with an unamused look on his face.
"Next time, ask before you try shaking anyone's hand." Baxter stopped outside of the reach of Charlie's arms. The glare behind his goggles further dented the good attitude Charlie had brought with her to his door.
"I'm so sorry, sir!" Charlie stated with a pleasing look in her eyes. "You are the first person to join the hotel in weeks. I just wanted to give you a warm welcome. I'm sorry if I hurt you or caused you distress."
Hardly anyone in Baxter's afterlife ever gave him such a generous amount of curtesy. Most demons were quiet transparent in their contempt and hatred towards others. Whether Charlie's apology was based in heartfelt regret or was simply a product of some royal etiquette lessons, he could not discern.
"Well," Baxter admitted with a small huff, "I suppose you couldn't have known about my... abhorrence to physical contact. My name is Baxter, scientist extraordinaire." He gave a bow with his bowler hat in an off hand.
"I'm Charlie. I'm the founder of the Hazbin Hotel. Pleased to meet you." Charlie stepped aside to let Vaggie introduce herself.
"Vagatha. Most people call me Vaggie." She stated plainly.
Baxter's eyes wandered about the hallway befor meeting with Charlie's gaze. "I have to say, I'm quite content with the room I have been given. It's more spacious than the last place I rested my weary head."
Charlie took the compliment in stride. "We try our best to have our rooms clean and in order at the Hazbin Hotel. We'll actually be having lunch in less than two hours, courtesy of Niffty, our maid."
"Oh yes, the maid." Baxter muttered. "She needs to learn to respect the personal space of others. Very unsettling if you ask me."
Charlie gave a nervous chuckle, conscious of the need to not make the newest guest in her charitable venture uncomfortable. "I'm sure we can let her know to allow you the space you need, Dr. Baxter."
"Huh... No one has called me doctor in a long time... Almost brings back memories. But enough reminiscing, I'll be certain to be present. Where will the lunch be held, again?"
"In the kitchen." Charlie explained. "We have a larger dining area, but we don't have the guest numbers to justify using it, so we converted part of the kitchen to an eating area."
"I assume the kitchen is on the first floor?"
"Yep! Just go back down to the lobby, and if you are facing the front door, take a left and just go down the hallway to the end. You can't miss it."
"My sincerest thanks, Princess." Baxter said with perhaps the most relaxed smile he had displayed all day.
"No problem! Make yourself at home!" Charlie departed with Vaggie without another word.
"I just might have to..." Baxter whispered to himself. So far, many of the inhabitants at the hotel had rather bold personalities, including the Princess herself. It was a set of circumstances that he would have to endure to enjoy the comforts of the hotel. Having to share residence with such demons sounded intolerable, but most of Baxter's previous experiences in habitation were hardly temples of privacy. Sometimes he had to resort to sleeping on the floors of homeless shelters in close proximity to drug addicts and other unsavory characters. Crowding was one such obvious trade off that Baxter simply had to tolerate.
He supposed it was a nice benefit to living at a hotel where serving three square meals a day was possible. A social lunch was not the most exciting occasion that Baxter could think of, but he had to at least make some interaction with the staff and other guests. It would be rude otherwise.
"I hope the food is much more edible than the slop I had in my boarding house days." Baxter said wearily.
"He's an odd one." Vaggie commented, her one-eyed gaze momentarily turned in the general direction of the room Baxter was staying at. She and Charlie were steadily making their way down to the lobby to rejoin the others.
The Princess was just about to chide her for the blunt judgment of Baxter's earlier reaction when Vaggie preempted the comment.
"I'm not saying he shouldn't be in the hotel. It's just weird that he doesn't like shaking hands."
"Maybe he's just germaphobic." Charlie suggested. It was surprising to experience the severity of Baxter's preference to abstain from physical contact, but she preferred to withhold any comment that would condemn him. After all, there was the possibility that her latest guest's reaction was rooted in trauma: trauma that would have to be carefully addressed and overcome during therapy sessions.
"A germaphobic scientist wearing a lab coat and gloves?" Vaggie countered. "Isn't science all about getting your hands dirty to find out how things work?"
Charlie was hardly the expert on scientific endeavors, so she did not answer Vaggie's questions.
"You don't need to tell me that, toots!" Called Angel Dust's voice in the lobby.
Vaggie, not surprised at the porn star's attempt to turn the conversation into a vulgar subject, rolled her eye. "I'm surprised you're back from your job already."
"It was a simple photo shoot for a future movie. Won't be gettin' into shootin' until the script is made. No other problems. No turf wars for you to get on my ass about." Angel explained with snark. He still remembered the time when Vaggie scolded him severely for helping Cherri Bomb back on New Years Day.
Vaggie growled, but decided that Angel's insistence on doing some dirty business was not the most irritating thing he had done so far. She settled for a tight arm cross and a harsh leer from her one good eye as she sat down on a couch nearby.
"Well, we got some good news!" Charlie said, addressing the other residents in the lobby.
"Yeah yeah, there's a new guy at the hotel." Angel stated with disinterest. "Was just havin' a drink wit' the boys here and we started talkin' about it."
This was not entirely true. Aside from Husk, no one else was drinking with Angel. Niffty was bouncing on the balls of her feet, somewhat eager to hear Charlie's words in the hopes of being assigned a job. Jersey, looking on from his own stool with a bored expression, was just glad that Angel had something to distract from his usual method of goading others: flirtatious provocation.
"I wonder if he's into any kind of... experimentation." Angel schemed aloud to the annoyance of most of those around him.
"Now, I think that it is in our best interests to make sure that Baxter is welcomed into this hotel with open arms. A nice lunch would be a good way to start it." Charlie decreed.
"Ooh, I volunteer to make lunch!" Niffty cried out while raising a dainty little hand.
Charlie was more than happy to grant the job of cook to the little maid. "Excellent! As for the rest of us, we're gonna give a nice presentation of lunch just for Baxter. It's time to make a great impression for the newest guest to the Hazbin Hotel!"
One and a half hours later...
Baxter had slowly made his way down the hallway as instructed by Charlie. He had little else to do besides familiarize himself with his room and the lobby downstairs. In terms of the meal he was to be presented with, he had no expectations.
"It surely won't be anything extravagant." Baxter theorized aloud. "The hotel is in a rough shape, after all." The cleanliness could not hope to erase telltale signs that the hotel had been abandoned for decades.
Coming upon a pair of swivel doors, his nose, not normally that sensitive to any kind of odor over years of intense lab work, could smell a variety of rather pleasant concoctions on the other side of the door. It shocked him that he could smell anything so delectable in Pentagram City.
Stopping just before the doors, he tapped on one such door with his knuckles, the door slightly budged from the small effort to announce himself.
"Come in!" Came the cheerful voice of Charlie.
Without a word, Baxter stepped inside to a neat makeshift table with eight seats. The foodstuffs on top of the white cloth were limited, but delectable looking, even from a distance. A large platter of a chicken meal with red potatoes sat at the center, and separate bowls and serving platters for rolls, Caesar salad, and even deviled eggs sat ready for the taking.
Charlie and Vaggie had already served themselves. The rest of the guests and hotel staff were currently getting their plates loaded with fresh food. Strangely, only seven were currently present.
"Hi, Baxter!" Charlie greeted. "Grab a plate and help yourself."
Baxter found himself both impressed and confounded at the arrangement. The food was of exceptional quality, but the space for eating was obviously improvised. Nevertheless, he set about filling up a spare plate. He sat somewhat close to the door so he could quickly make his way back to his room. No one noticed that he was sitting far back into his chair, keeping his body away from his newly made neighbors.
"Hey, where's Al?" Charlie asked after making a silent headcount.
"Who cares?" Angel Dust responded flippantly. "After all, I'm more interested in the new guy." Angel made a point to sit next to Baxter, a move that made the fish-demon all the more anxious as the porn star leaned towards him with a salacious gleam in his eyes.
"Angel..." Vaggie growled in a warning tone. Angel promptly ignored her.
"Hi handsome, my names-"
"Salutations, my fellow hotel patrons!" Boldly entering with the pomp of a celebrity, Alastor's arrival was accompanied by raucous applause emitting from his microphone staff. "What's on the menu for this fine afternoon?"
"Garlic chicken with red potatoes!" Niffty answered easily.
"Chicken you say?" Alastor walked to his seat completely opposite the doorway he had walked through. With a snap of his fingers, crimson smoke wafted from between his fingers, and the last plate teleported before him. It was neatly presented with small portions of the main entree and the accompanying appetizers.
A varied chorus of approval of the food filled the air as the Hazbin Hotel's population began to eat. Alastor had a rather interesting comment when he savored the meat in his entree.
"It's not venison, but I suppose a bit of variety is good for the palate. Well done, dear little Niffty!"
With everyone now sitting and enjoying their meals, talking began as more plates began to lose the food that sat upon them. The main subject of discussion was a Baxter himself. Needless to say, it was an unusual circle of attention around him.
"Maybe we should introduce ourselves to Baxter, since we're all here." Charlie suggested.
"Most of us have already done so." Vaggie pointed out.
Charlie blushed lightly at having forgotten so quickly, but she soon amended her idea. "Alastor and Angel haven't."
"Just so!" Alastor piped up. "Greetings, Baxter. I am Alastor, the greatest Radio Demon of all of Hell! Pleased to make your acquaintance my studious little friend."
Baxter paled at the realization of whom he was sharing a lunch table with. "I-I have heard of your d-destructive tendencies, Mr. A-Alastor."
"You don't say!" Alastor scooped up his cane, placing a finger on top of the microphone head of the staff. "Would you care to listen to a replay of my first days in Hell? I guarantee that it's a rerun that some will be dying to experience." The accompaniment of staticky canned laughter did nothing to alleviate the terror in Baxter's heart. The Radio Demon's eyes appeared to flicker into radio dials for a few horrific moments.
"Al, not at the table." Charlie warned.
Alastor allowed a sigh through his nose. His formidable demeanor retreated, and he settled down to eating again. "As you wish, my dear."
Angel, who was disturbed by Alastor's brief display of fear-inducing power as anyone else, cleared his throat. "Name's Angel Dust. I'm the sexiest and most famous adult actor in Pentagram City."
Baxter was not impressed. "How... obscene."
"Thanks!" Angel answered, apparently none the wiser about the newest guest's basic sense of disgust at Angel's pornographic occupation.
"So, what do you do, Baxter?" Charlie questioned, hoping that the introductions were not becoming too unsettling for the scientist sitting amongst them.
Baxter was grateful that the question was relevant to his personal interests. The fact that it distracted from a certain spider demon's flirtations was an added bonus. Baxter spoke with a mild tension in his voice, for he rarely had such multi-sided conversations with other demons. "I am primarily a chemist, but I have interests in multiple subjects related to hard science and mathematics."
"So, you like, experiment and stuff?" Angel asked with interest.
"Yes." Baxter answered in a clipped tone. He was waiting for Angel to get into his personal space again.
"Well then," Angel spoke seductively whilst pushing up the fur that made up his effeminate bosom, "how's about we do some really fun experimentin' in my bedroom after we're finished eating?"
Baxter was not the most in touch demon when it came to flirtatious comments, but he tried to stem the suggestive commentary with customary nervousness.
"I-I don't have much interesting in the experimentation you like to partake in, Mr. Angel." Baxter made a point of scooting his chair ever so slightly away from the spider demon's licentious display. He was disappointed that no one immediately tried to intervene.
"Aww, and here I thought I'd get to show you my scientific methods." Angel declared with a melodramatic sigh.
"He said he's not interested, Angel." Jersey replied scoldingly.
Angel scoffed, sitting back down and resigning himself to eating his food. He let out a quiet insult towards Jersey's prudish nature.
Baxter stared at Jersey for a bit, quietly grateful for the stern verbal warning towards Angel Dust. He was about to start eating again, when he was asked another question.
"How'd you find out about us?" Vaggie asked, hoping to note the ways in which a new guest like Baxter learned of the Hazbin Hotel.
"I saw an advertisement on the Hell-Wide-Web. I had been evicted from my previous lodgings, and just looked up vacancies."
"I guess my work in getting ourselves on the internet worked after all." Charlie commented. It had not been an easy task, for it required a considerable amount of capital to convince a lesser known server on the internet to host their website. She felt some comfort that at least one fruit had been born of this investment.
"So, you believe that redemption is possible?" Vaggie pressed.
"So far there is no literature, to my mind, to suggest that a sinful soul is capable of redemption. I would say that in most circumstances that it would be improbable." Baxter replied plainly. "I was especially interested in your generous coverage of most expenses that a typical guest would have to patronize."
"Oh..." Charlie looked downtrodden.
"All the same, I would not go so far to say that it is... impossible." Baxter elaborated.
Most everyone at the lunch table stared at the scientific demon.
"After all," Baxter continued offhandedly, "there is no literature available. Psychology is almost never explored here in Hell, so I would at least be curious to see how a controlled environment could be developed to encourage better behavior in sinners."
"Then-" Charlie ventured, unsure of how to ask Baxter to summarize his thoughts on her cause.
"It is improbable, not impossible." Baxter summarized.
"Well, it appears you can chalk up one more sinner who at least humors your efforts, my dear!" Alastor remarked in Charlie's direction.
Vaggie already assumed that the comment was not entirely meant to flatter, but Charlie took Baxter's evaluation of her goal in stride.
"Thank you for being so frank, Dr. Baxter."
He gave an amiable grin. "By all means, call me Baxter, Ms. Charlie." Although not opposed to short bouts of general conversation, he was considerably cheery when given the chance to eat good, quality food in a hotel for the first time in decades.
8:44 pm
Despite the rough beginning to his arrival at the Hazbin Hotel, Baxter was pleasantly surprised at what he had seen and experienced so far. The meals were of high quality, his room had been properly cleaned and managed in preparation for a guest just like him, and the person who had primacy in overseeing the hotel was quite the pleasant woman. There was an added bonus in that the Hotel was a burgeoning hotspot for a unique study into the long thought unachievable status of redeeming oneself to ascend to Heaven.
After lunch, Baxter familiarized himself throughout the hotel. It was customary for him to know where essential staff would be located, as well as any fire exits that could be accessed in the case of an emergency. His unfortunate tendencies to bring his work projects with him to work on long into the night necessitated a photographic recollection of avenues to leave a smoking building. He had lost count of the number of times chemical mixtures had blown up in his face sometime after eight hundred and ninety-one, but he had not forgotten the blessing that was the advent of fire escapes.
Brushing his teeth, Baxter mused over the day. It was one of the few times in his afterlife where he felt a genuine sense of contentment that did not relate to a scientific discovery or achievement.
"That Princess is quite the charitable creature. It seems utterly inconceivable that Lucifer is the progenitor of such a kind hearted creature, her insistence on physical interaction aside."
The hotel was shaping up to be a suitable place to stay at for the long haul. It had everything that Baxter required and then some. As long as he played his part and attended redemption therapy sessions, he could remain at the hotel for an indefinite period of time.
As he prepared to go to bed, one concern stirred in the back of his mind.
'I hope I can keep myself from bringing my work projects to the hotel. If I reach a break through, I might not be able to help it.'
Meanwhile...
Jersey was likewise about to hit the hay. He had just put on a sleep shirt and shorts after cleaning himself up for the night.
"Quite a day." He murmured. "I'm no longer the new guy in this place." Jersey climbed into bed and turned off the one lamp next to his bed.
His earlier interaction aside, Jersey hardly had a suspicious thought about Baxter. While it did seem unusual for Baxter to have an apparent fear of germs given the equipment he was wearing, it was hardly an incriminating quirk. The fellow seemed harmless enough, especially when he joined the rest of the staff and guests for their scheduled meals.
Jersey ceased any further scrutiny on Baxter, and after pulling his covers over his body, he quickly fell to sleep.
Charlie's bedroom
After weeks of waiting, the Hazbin Hotel could make a tiny boast about increasing its population. Charlie felt like she had accomplished something important for the first time in almost two months. Although trying to redeem the likes of Angel and Jersey was a slow and steady process, the arrival of a new patron sparked new life in Charlie's alternative proposal to ending overpopulation.
Ever since Baxter arrival, she had gone about her typical duties with a lightness in her strides. Even for a cheerful personality at the hotel, she had maintained a grateful, little smile on her face the entire time. Even Vaggie felt somewhat relaxed during the day, no doubt sensing the assured aura around Charlie. That was a feat in and of itself.
Aside from the hand shaking fiasco, nothing had gone wrong. The hotel had not been cleaned up and managed in vain. It would not simply stagnate in a cynical and harsh Circle of Hell.
Dressed in a modest, burgundy nightgown, she was about to go to sleep with a flutter of happiness in her heart. Today had been a good day, and it would end with a well-earned night's rest.
"We may not have a redeemed soul yet," Charlie muttered to herself, "but we have a second guest. That's got to be worth something." Her alarm set up, she went to bed considering what kind of breakfast was to be served in the morning.
All was good at the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie now felt in her heart that surely, this venture in redeeming sinners would inevitably prove Hell wrong.
This is a shorter chapter, but I wanted to better set up the arrival of other characters to the hotel, namely Baxter in this case. Baxter is one of those confirmed patrons that we never see interactions with, yet can infer something about his character from what we have seen of official art. I hope I will be able to make his interactions distinct.
As far as the likes of Crymini and other hotel guests, I won't be introducing them immediately. First things first, I wish to introduce a bit of conflict in the hotel. Things have been getting too stable lately. You can make your guess as to whom will spark this bit of chaos within the Hazbin Hotel.
As always, thank you very much for all of your support.